Last night I decided the cream puff tree and post-Christmas pageant dessert buffet at church need to be worked off with a walk come morning. However, Dave’s text this morning announced the elevator being out of service. This is one of the charms of city living- living on the sixth floor and having a non-functioning elevator, while doing life with three little ones four and under.

I must have been slightly delusional when I thought I could get down the steps carrying a baby carseat (sans bébé) and Jack’s scooter while helping the little helmet-clad kiddo down the steps, all with lil’ Chloe strapped on. What mother thinks that’s a good idea? All was going well until somewhere between the 3rd and 4th floor.

It happened too quickly and out of my range of visibility (when I’m “wearing my baby” it is impossible to see from my hips down in a three foot radius). But there he was, little helmet-clad buddy sprawled out across four steps, face down. That helmet saved him. He was crying but more because he was shook up. I managed to balance the scooter on a couple of steps and plop the car seat on the landing of the 3rd floor. Jack and I caught our breath and then I heard a voice, “Heidi, is it you? Do you need help getting down the steps?” It was our neighbor. The same one who drove me the hospital when I couldn’t get a hold of Dave and the husband of my friend who made it possible for me to get home to my family during the terrorist attacks four weeks ago. God seriously sends this family to us in our weakest, most needy moments. It is crazy. “Ah yes, that’d be great,” I responded with an awkward laugh… I didn’t want to look so desperate but I was.

I thanked him and then shuffled off to only find that our car wasn’t parked in the lot of our building. See there are only so many spots available and it is on a first come, first serve basis. I call Dave to find out how far away the car is parked. Um, too far to keep this circus up all the way to it’s spot. Fortunately our gardien (the building caretaker) had pity on me and offered to keep the carseat until the elevator is repaired. Did I mention I looked desperate? Ok, focus Heidi, you have to get your daughter from preschool.

The trip back up the steps was much smoother. Lexie offered to carry Jack’s helmet… and the scooter. Sweet girl; she forgets she’s hardly four. I let her take the helmet.

We did the steps one more time to go play at the park but this time without the extra “props” and with a friend by my side. My super hero husband met us when we came home. He scooped up our two year old and carried him up the steps.

I think I worked off at least part of the cream puff tree and tomorrow, as the elevator still isn’t repaired, I should get around to working off the rest.